Chapter 26 - Oh Holy Night
Saturday came dressed in coastal humidity and a sky that could not decide whether to rain.
I dressed in the tux I hadn’t worn since my partner announcement party; it still smelled fresh from the dry cleaners.
I took a big drink from my glass of Jefferson Reserve, the brown liquid warmed my insides and relaxed my nerves. Why was I nervous?
At seven-thirty, Julianne met me in the marble lobby of the Francis Marion Hotel.
The ballroom lights glowed beyond the open doors, a warm hum of gold and music spilling into the lobby.
She wore a floor-length satin gown in midnight blue, the kind of fabric that moved like water when she walked.
The dress clung to her like loyalty, a single strap sweeping over one shoulder. She was breathtaking.
“You look handsome,” she said, smiling, a cute chuckle bubbling out of her.
“And you look beautiful. I’m the luckiest man alive tonight.” Her smile widened. “This old thing,” she said with a southern accent.
Inside, the room hummed. Glasses clinked, stringed instruments played in the background just light enough to make you feel social.
She introduced me to donors, board members, and even a few colleagues. I said the right things and meant enough of them to be convincing.
We moved together well. She laughed at my dry humor.
A photographer drifted near the stage and near us. He had a sponsor badge and a bored smile. I knew he was there to snap a photo, and when I turned Julianne around to stage a candid, he clicked.
Then I saw him again as we took our seats for the auction. He captured us again.
During the auction, she leaned in. “This is the part that always gets me going,” she said, eyes fixed on the raised paddles and the calm faces behind them.
“They dress it up as generosity, but it’s hunger.
They see what they want and find a way to make wanting it look important.
That’s the beauty of money, Matt. It lets people win politely. ”
I stared at her. Actually, I was already undressing her. I walked around most of the night with a semi-hard on and dirty thoughts.
Our personal photographer, because that was what he felt like by then, snapped us close, mid-dip, both of us laughing. It started to feel strange, the way his lens kept finding us.
When we stepped outside, the air had cooled. She smiled at me across the car roof, and sure enough, there he was again, snapping one last shot as I cursed myself for not opening her door like a proper southern gentleman.
“Nightcap,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“Of course,” I said. Smiling at her nonchalance.
As soon as we got in the car, Julianne exhaled, almost laughing.
“God, what a night. I had three of our biggest donors there tonight, and they actually looked impressed. The auction pulled in nearly double what we projected.” She turned toward me, her eyes still lit from the evening.
“You were great, by the way. You made it all look effortless.”
“Effortless,” I repeated with a smile. “That’s new for me.”
She tilted her head, studying me. “You didn’t seem uncomfortable at all.”
“I usually hate those things,” I said. “The small talk, the posture, the pretending to care about the right kind of wine.” I glanced at her, then back at the road. “But tonight was different. I actually had fun. Because of you.”
That earned me a look. The kind that starts as disbelief but softens into something else. “You don’t enjoy events like that? You seemed like you were born for it.”
“Not even close,” I said, laughing quietly. “I’m better at surviving them than enjoying them.”
She smiled. “That’s surprising. You’re a good conversationalist. Charming, even.”
I felt a small warmth spread in my chest, something calm and unfamiliar. “I liked watching you work the room. You were in your element. Confident. You made everyone there feel like they mattered.”
Julianne looked out the window, quiet for a beat. “That’s the trick,” she said softly. “Make people the center of the story for five minutes. That’s all anyone really wants.”
I kept my eyes on the road, but the words stuck.
That was exactly what she was doing to me, making me feel like I mattered, like I was the only one in the room worth seeing.
Maybe it was genuine. Maybe it was art.
Either way, it worked.
I made a mental note to remember that about her, the way she could give you attention so complete it felt like gravity.
The car fell quiet, the kind that fills the space between two people who both know something shifted.
My place was quiet and clean, the way it’s supposed to be when you live alone and try not to think about what that means. It was a bachelor pad with opulence. Clean lines, high-end finishes, and posh furnishings. I wasn’t going to live alone and hate my life anymore.
I poured two drinks. She set her clutch on the counter and wandered to the window, looking out at slate roofs and the line of the water beyond.
“You have good taste,” she said, her reflection clear in the window. “And an even better view.”
I took a sip of my drink.
“It helps.”
She turned slightly, her gaze catching mine.
“Helps with what?”
I let the silence stretch before answering.
“I like to surround myself with beautiful things, and the view is gorgeous.” I was talking about her. I didn’t want to chit-chat any longer. I wanted her in my bed. Beneath me.
She smiled at the view, then turned back to me. “Oh, a man who knows what he likes.”
“Yes,” I said. “And who knows what he wants.”
Her eyes didn’t waver. “Is that me?”
I nodded once. “It is, Julianne.”
She tilted her head, her heels barely making a sound on the hardwood as she started toward me. “Is that against the rules?”
“Probably,” I said. “But I’ve never been good at following them.”
Her smile deepened. “Good. Then tonight’s your chance to prove it,” she said, stepping close enough that I could feel her breath mix with mine.
When I finally kissed her, it was out of pure instinct. Her lips were soft but sure, meeting mine like she had been waiting for it. The kind of kiss that starts quietly and turns into something else before you realize it.
She pressed against me, fingers sliding up the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
I caught the faint taste of wine as our tongues played, dancing in and out of each other’s mouths.
My hands found the curve of her waist, then moved up the smooth line of her back until the zipper was beneath my thumb.
As I eased the zipper down, she moaned into my mouth.
I felt it all the way to my cock. I gently pushed her dress off her shoulders, then stepped back and watched it fall slowly down her body.
Her skin was tan and smooth. Her nipples were taught and peeking through her midnight blue lace bra.
The exact color of her dress and panties. She was fucking beautiful.
The only thought in my mind at that moment was what it would sound like when I made her come.
Her hands moved with purpose, tracing the edges of my shirt, each button giving way beneath her fingers.
The fabric slid from my shoulders and hit the floor.
She ran her palms across my stomach, down to my belt, and made quick work of it.
My pants joined the growing pile at our feet.
We stepped free of them together, a quiet rhythm in sync.
The room shrank to heat, skin, and the sound of her whisper against my jaw.
“I want this, Matt.”
I picked her up, sliding both hands beneath the bare cheeks of her ass, my fingers tracing the line of the thong that sat neatly between them.
She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I walked us backward, stumbling a bit through my clothes on the floor.
We made it to the bedroom, still half-laughing, half-breathless, like we were both surprised by the inevitability of it.
The bed caught her as I gently placed her on the comforter and spread her out.
She looked at me once, eyes steady, daring me to stop. I didn’t.
I leaned down and kissed her stomach, once, twice.
I closed my eyes and drew in a long, deliberate breath, and was immediately wrapped in her floral scent.
I moved my hands from her waist to the thin fabric of her thong.
I hooked my fingers on each side and slid them down her long legs, watching her as she watched me.
I dropped the thong, then locked my eyes on her glistening pink core.
“You're beautiful here too, Julianne,” I said as I slid a fingertip through her center.
She was wet and plump, and I needed her smell on my lips and her taste on my tongue.
I pulled her to the edge of the bed and dropped to my knees, kissing the inside of one thigh, then the other.
“Matt.” She breathed. I smiled against her skin.
I licked against her clit, and she arched her back off the bed.
I trailed down and pushed my tongue into her entrance and fucked her with my tongue, finally tasting her.
I returned to her clit and flicked my tongue until she was digging her hands in my hair.
“Fuck, you taste incredible,” I murmured against her.
I continued to lap against her clit until she screamed and convulsed uncontrollably.
“Oh, god, oh god, oh god, YES!” Her mewls and moans were the reward I needed.
I held her tight as she bucked into my mouth.
“Matt, fuck.” I looked up from my meal and saw the look of pure ecstasy on her face.
I swirled my tongue one last time inside of her.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand as I crawled up her body and pulled her bra down, freeing her swollen breasts.
I tongued each nipple, sucking and biting.
Holy fuck, the sexy noises she made almost undid me. I could feel her vibrating beneath me with a sexual energy that I couldn’t wait to fuck out of her.
I reached over to my side table and pulled out a condom.
I made a show of putting it on. She watched me, biting her lip and running her hands up to her breasts.
“I need you inside me now, Matt,” she pleaded impatiently.
I moved between her legs, placed the head of my cock at her entrance, looking at her blushed face, her full, wet mouth.
I pulled her bottom lip into my mouth, letting her taste herself.
As our tongues collided, I sank slowly inside of her. “Holy fuck, Julianne,” I purred.
What happened next wasn’t about control. It was about release. About forgetting the last year of restraint and guilt. About remembering that I was still alive, still capable of this kind of hunger.
She fucked me as much as I fucked her. Her upward thrusts met mine as I pistoned into her over and over.
She clung to me, our bodies writhing against each other, giving, taking, pleasing.
My orgasm was building, I heard myself panting and for a moment I thought my soul was going to release itself through my cock.
Her body trembled beneath me. “Oh fuck,” she moaned. I’m coming. Ma…”
I couldn’t hold back any longer. I pushed one last thrust into her and came with a noise of something unintelligible, head back, face screwed up.
She relaxed beneath me. “Good holy god of all that’s glorious, Matt.”
I fell on the bed beside her and laughed.
She lay beside me for a while, her breathing turned soft and steady. The room smelled like her perfume and sex, a mix that lingered in the air and on my skin. I stared at the ceiling, waiting for that flicker of guilt, but it never came.
Julianne shifted, turning toward me with a slow, lazy smile. “Thank you,” she said.
I glanced at her. “For what?”
“For the gala. And for the mind-blowing sex.”
That made me laugh. “You’re welcome.” I hesitated to say anything more; I didn’t want her to think this was something that it wasn’t.
She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The sheets slipped down her back, and for a second, I thought she might change her mind about leaving. She didn’t.
She walked to the kitchen, gathered her dress from the floor, stepped into it, and pulled it up in one smooth motion. Watching her get dressed felt strangely intimate, like watching someone rebuild their armor.
She walked back into the room and turned to me. “Can you zip me?”
I kissed her shoulder before I pulled the zipper all the way up.
She caught her reflection in the mirror of my dresser and fixed her lipstick with a fingertip. The outside lights from my bedroom window painted her skin gold. When she turned to me, she was Julianne Raines again, composed, elegant, untouchable.
“I’ll see you soon,” she said. Her tone was light, but her eyes lingered on mine just long enough to make it mean something.
I nodded. “Drive safe.”
She smiled, leaned down, and kissed me once. Then she walked out of my room, picked up her shoes, grabbed her clutch from the counter, and walked out.
The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed felt cleaner than usual. I lay back against the pillow, tracing the faint heat she’d left behind. I didn’t ask her to stay, and she didn’t expect me to. That was the beauty of it.
It had been a long time since something in my life felt simple.